It's Always Midnight in Philadelphia
by Warlocksmith
Summary: The streets of Philadelphia run cold, an oppressive presence hangs in the air, the number of missing person reports are on the rise. Off of the Delaware rolls a merciless fog that consumes the town in melancholic trance and on the edge of hearing just outside the border of awareness a gentle lullaby plays.


The wind was filled with the moaning of spirits this night. Mac felt the tension that was building underneath the normal patterns that had come to define his existence. It was like looking at the stillness of a clear pond, certainly the impression of peace was given so long as attention was fixed to the surface. The large shadow moving upwards that sent the smaller fish scattering told another story however, and Mac was certain tonight would be one no one would be forgetting anytime soon. He was a black cloud that drifted in the night sky over a landscape of semi-industrial decay punctuated by streaks of light and noise. From where once his soul resided now was a ragged hole cut out from the cloth of his humanity. Below all the misery and pain, all the confusion and hatred, lust and violence of a million people living their short lives welled up and flowed into the pitch black hunger at the core of Mac's being. As the cloud drifted so did his mind, fragmented dreams flowed across these dark waters and perception drifted outward to touch what might be, memories not his own fell like leaves in the autumn wind. Time was different here. If only he could bring what he found in these far removed spaces back down with him, if only the knowledge from these glimpses into something larger didn't evaporate like morning dew.

"Hey, Asshole," Dee's shitty ear-splitting voice snapped across Mac's mind. The ominous thoughts that had been haunting him this evening crumbled away under the shrill pitch of a banshee's wail.

"I need you at Paddy's immediately"

Slowly at first, above the night sky of Philadelphia and unknown to all below, a small black cloud descended from the sentry it had held. Contracting tighter and tighter into the shape of a man the descent gained momentum. A moment later it was gone.

Heavy hung the scent of alcohol within the parlour and heavier still were shadows cast that draped over all in their path like the softest velvet. In each of the four corners sat a fine obsidian carving of the sun. Each sun was hollow and inside each was a ring of eleven incense holders aligned with one of the outward rays. Gently the smoke born from each snaked across the room mingling and dancing in the middle illuminated by what little light crept through the slithers of window not obscured by heavy red curtains of black and gold embroidery that hinted of a vague mid-eastern origin. Or imitation thereof.

"Aww, Man why did you have to go and-"

"Shut up Charlie! This is not your call."

"Ok but hear me out, just let me finis-"

"There is nothing medicinal about rats. I mean if anything it is the opposite."

"Dennis, ok listen that is prejudiced misinformation! That is rumours spread by people watching Hollywood movies, they can't tell reality from fiction."

Dennis sighed and reached over the counter for another beer. Paddy's was empty and at some point over the night he and Charlie had made the leap from staff to customers. This was not an unusual occurrence. He looked over at Charlie, his excitable face contorting into an approximation of sincerity under the dull red light of the bar and his mouth opening to begin another pitch.

"Charlie, ENOUGH. They caused the plague, the Black Death, Charlie! Half of Europe gone, 200million people dead in 4 years." He paused "Jesus"!

"That's right, Dennis drink the Kool-Aid just keep drinking that nice frosty glass of Kool-Aid you have there"

Dennis got up from the bar and glided over to one of the booths to rest and Charlie disappeared behind the bar counter accompanied by a thick ripping sound. Black mist swirled across the floor and cumulating in the form of Mac and left the air electric with the scent of ozone. A welcome change from stale alcohol.

"Yo, dude, chuck us a brewski"

A bottle of beer is flung over the counter and smashes against the wall.

"What the shit was that"

Dee stormed into the room from the office. She looked down at the broken beer with a pained expression.

"I don't have time for this. Mac, come with me"

Mac, Frank and Dee were standing around the desk of Frank's cramped office, a tiny room dominated by a large bookcase locked up tightly with thick chains that seemed to absorb any light cast on it. Dee remembered when Frank first got it off a traveling sales man, she never managed to see his face as he was obscured by labyrinth of fabrics covered in strange patterns that seemed to dance before her eyes. He wore circular spectacles with lenses that seemed to be roughly carved stones, tiny runes on each one. A rich aromatic smoke wafted from a large incense burner strapped to his back and he never said a word apart from "That will do" when Frank offered a price for the bookcase.

"I know you guys would rather be out doing whatever it is complete losers do these days but I need your help" Frank proclaimed staring at a red smudge on the wall before disappearing out the door, moments later he returned carrying a large hessian sack that he struggled to heave up onto the table. "This is something that if we play our cards right could make me very rich" Frank pulled the sack down revealing a bloody unconscious man who had a blurred serial number branded across his chest.

"Ooooh, not good" came Mac's breathy reaction.

"What do you mean not good" Frank thundered, "This is the opportunity of a life time, I was out walking around minding my own business when I saw-"

Frank paused at the sound of police sirens. Deep inside one of the pockets enclosed by Dee's long scarlet robe a small polished tube of obsidian began to vibrate against her chest. Mac had already left the room.

"Well if he doesn't want to help me make 100g forget him. Listen, Dee this is 100% premium blue blood cattle from the Mayors own supply. Minor European aristocracy, inbred to perfection. We are talking top of the line stuff here. We just need to find the right buyer."

The sirens were getting closer.

"But first things first, Dee. I really really need your help right now."

Back in the pub Mac took a deep breath and his eyes rested on small window that had been left open. Slowly he walked towards it

"It's called toe armour! Take a look you just don't cut your nails for a year and the nail curls over the front of your toe forming a protective shell."

 _Relax. Let go. There is a flow underneath what can be seen._

"Giving it a name doesn't make it any less disgusting, Charlie"

 _The potentiality-field permeates and the shadows cast by time are but water. Feel the winds blow across your skin, watch as they ripple across the surface._

"CHARLIE, get that shit out of my face! _"_

 _This wind is you. It parts the veil. Breath in and-_

Mac was gone. The window snapped shut. Charlie and Dennis were now standing up to shout and Dee ran across the room panic carved on her face as she locked the door.

 _stop…_


End file.
